The Widower and the Motherless
by Summer Leigh Wind
Summary: The girl's lip wobbles. "Died?" she parrots in confusion and fury at her request being denied. "Yes," The man sighs, blinking back tears, "It means mama's gone for forever and ever, she won't be coming home to us anymore." A drabble.


_**The Widower and the Motherless**_

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"Where's mama?" His little girl demands from across the table, her porridge spoon jutting in the air like the imperious scepter of a queen. Kozmotis feels his body jolt suddenly before coming so still his daughter frowns at him. "Want mama, papa," she sulks.

How do you tell a child that her mother is no more? That she is just dust in the wind from a cinder of ravaged bodies? How do you tell a daughter that her mother won't becoming home and that her soft curves will no longer be there to hug or that her waterfall hush won't be there to remedy fever-aches from her ill body with a lullaby or worst of all, the special smile reserved for her and only her won't ever kindle a flame of love again in her heart?

Clearing his throat, Kozmotis puts down his own spoon and says to her, "Mama's gone Sera, she died."

The girl's lip wobbles. "Died?" she parrots in confusion and fury at her request being denied.

"Yes," The man sighs, blinking back tears, "It means mama's gone for forever and ever, she won't be coming home to us anymore."

"Where she go then?" His lovely, wonderfully, stubborn daughter demands as if by knowing she could bring Vulpecula back to them (how he wishes this was so).

"To the galaxies, my starling;" he tells her softly.

Her little head whips around to gaze out at the day-lit sky, "Why so far?" She questions; with big blue eyes that mirror his own sorrow, she warbles, "She don't want us no more?"

Speechless, the father reaches across the table and ignores how he drags his coat through the food as he lifts the tiny girl from the chair and into his arms where he can cradle her in his arms. "Oh _Seraphina_, no, no, no..." he babbles in a low hum as the child cries. "Mama wouldn't have left, mama would have stayed if she could...the fearlings; there were too many, too many people to protect on her own." He explains, trying to make her understand that Vulpecula* fought valiantly to come home to them, but lost in an unwinnable battle.

"Papa!" The girl wails, "Don't go 'way too! Don't go!"

The man doesn't know how she formed the idea that he was to leave now too, but Kozmotis was quick to correct the three year old. "I'm not going anywhere," he promises, "Not for a long while." He would like to say never, but, he's a man that belongs to his country and to swear never is a grave mistake.

Eyes red and terribly fierce for one so small, she pulls away from his neck and gazes with blue eyes a reflection of his own, at him. "Good," she decides, "You go, I go too." She tells him with such a seriousness that it makes him scared.

"Oh starling," the man hiccups, "If I die I need you to live; for me and your mama. We want you to grow up and old, to love, to play, to cry, to-to do the things we won't ever again," he explains, at her doubtful pout he clutches at the back of her neck maybe just a bit too hard and hisses "_Swear _child."

Squirming at his roughness, her eyes widen with panic as he squeezes her harder still. Seraphina attempts to nod her head and finds it impossible so chokes out with tears bubbling from her eyes, "I will papa, I _swear_." He hugs her again and Kozmotis realizes then that she probably doesn't understand much at all; only knows mama's gone and not coming back, that papa's not going anytime soon, that she's promised to do something that she doesn't quite get. He'll have to remind her from time to time as she grows of what's she's sworn to do; until then, he holds her close.

"I love you my only girl," he breathes into her golden crown.

Her little fingers curl at the nape of his neck and his daughter plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Love papa back," she murmurs and with a tiny exhale snuggles closer and nods off into sleep soon after.

Kozmotis stands there, her warm weight in his arms and unwantedly looks to his family's little picture pinned on the wall just outside the kitchen. The three of them. Smiling, loving, _perfect_. Their small family won't ever grow again, it won't ever be whole again; but, as long as his daughter breaths in his arms? He will ensure its' survival and ensure _nothing _will ever take Seraphina from him as the fearlings took his wife. Kissing her little nose, the father murmurs, "Let's go lie down, hm?"

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**This is more a drabble than anything, but, I always did wonder just how Pitch dealt with losing his wife and how he explained it to his daughter. In this fic, she is very young (three if you didn't catch it), I hope she seems...in-age? Age appropriate? I know my three year old cousins aren't quiet good at talking, but, from what I understand, girls are quiet often a bit more verbally advanced when they're young.**

**Thank you for reading, tell me what you think by reviewing! :)**

***Vulpecula is what I called Kozmotis's wife in another fic of mine; _I'll set you up Against the_ _Stars._**


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